


Dean Winchester and His Angel

by ItsJustDeansFreckles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 03:49:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsJustDeansFreckles/pseuds/ItsJustDeansFreckles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's fast and frenzied. An adrenaline rush that they both crave after the inevitable brush with death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean Winchester and His Angel

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing SPN fanfiction so I'm really sorry if it's terrible. Also, I apologise for the really bad summary. And the bad title as well.

Dean Winchester isn't a saint. He knows that, his brother knows that... Hell, even _God_ knows that. But, admittedly, one of the worst things that Dean Winchester has ever done is seduce an angel. Or two, to be more precise. Logically, he knows that Anna can't really fall under the 'seduce an angel' category because, well, she wasn't one when they _met._ And he was still certain that their rendevous occurred purely because they believed that they were all going to die. Anna, as much as he hated to admit it, was nothing more than a girl in a very, very long line.

Cas... well, Cas is different. Castiel is the angel who pulled him free from a pit of agony, who remade him from scratch. Castiel likes burgers too much and occassionally has to be reminded of personal space and really creeped him out when he went to 2014 and saw what he had become.

But, whatever Cas is or isn't, there is one thing that Dean can always be sure of - the angel is awfully handy with his dick. And Dean is sure that he's going to Hell for enjoying it so damn much.

It first started after a hunt, when both he, Cas and Sam stumbled back into the motel room - broken and bloody from hunting the name of something that Dean can't even remember now. As far as he's concerned, it's irrelevant. Memories of that time are fuzzy for Dean, only particular images standing out in perfect clarity. He can't remember why his brother suddenly disappeared from the motel, or what he had said to Cas, or even where the cut on his body was that Cas had been healing.

What he _can_ remember is his angel breaking. Not particularly in a bad way... just in a 'I'm an Angel of the Lord and you really need to get naked' kind of way. Before Dean could really contemplate anything, Castiel had grabbed him by his shirt and slammed him against the wall, that pretty - albeit a little chapped - mouth suddenly ravaging his. And, despite Dean's one hundred percent heterosexual activities up to that point, all protests had died on his lips.

He had kissed his angel until he was breathless, until his tongue felt like it had done ten rounds of boxing, and until he was impossibly, _painfully_ hard.

His hands had greedily pushed the trenchcoat from Castiel's shoulders, followed by the suit jacket and the tie and the shirt, not stopping until his angel was gloriously naked in front of him. Dean had reached out for him again, only momentarily shocked to find that his clothes had also been disposed of. He was certain that the relief of Castiel's angelic powers had never hit him that strong before.

After that, they had tumbled onto Dean's bed in the motel room that he shared with Sam. There had been biting, nipping, licking... and then there had been Castiel's hand. First it was a teasing brush on his hard dick, then a more tightly secure grip, before he was seeing stars because his angel was moving his hand that ferociously. Before Dean could really break, he had taken control and flipped them both round, until Cas was under him.

He had reached out and grabbed the lube, coating his fingers with it and slowly creeping into Cas' tight heat. The whimper that his angel had released, as Dean's fingers pried him open, had been the sound played in Dean's fantasies many times since. Before long, Cas was impatiently bucking against him, his gravelly voice telling Dean that this wasn't enough.

The next part was a blur again. All Dean could remember was the tightness, the heat, the burning flashes of pleasure that shot through him. He could remember the moans from underneath him, better than any girl had ever made, along with the loud slamming of the headboard against the motel wall. And then there was Cas, giving into his orgasm and releasing all over Dean's stomach... and he had been close to follow.

He had pulled out and lain beside Cas, neither one of them speaking until, eventually, Dean's eyes had closed and he had fallen asleep.

When he had awoken, Castiel had gone.

But it was Cas and, no matter what, Cas always comes back.


End file.
